


All Our Love

by Tamloid



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Domestic Fluff, Dwarves in the Shire, Epistolary, Fluff, Husbands Under the Hill, Letters, M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26932204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamloid/pseuds/Tamloid
Summary: Three years after the battle, King Fíli of Erebor receives a letter from the Shire.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 20
Kudos: 200





	All Our Love

To Fíli, son of Dís, King Under the Mountain and Kíli, son of Dís, Crown Prince of Erebor.

My beloved sister-sons.

Yes, I am alive, and I am well. And before you become angry and think that I left my family and my home and my kingdom nearly a year ago now with the expectation that I would be either alive or well at this point, let me assure you that no, I truthfully didn’t expect to be either.

When I stepped down and gave Fíli the crown I fully expected that after I left in the middle of the night with naught but a cloak and a sword and a single pack, I would neither reach my destination nor that, if I arrived, that I could expect anything but the worst. But once again, I drastically underestimated our dear burglar.

Yes, you did read that right. I am in the Shire, in Hobbiton, with Master Baggins. With Bilbo. As you no doubt figured out much before your stoneheadded uncle, Bilbo is my Heart. My One. Our Maker, and undoubtedly also his wife the Green Lady, crafted us for each other. Thinking back, there was a wager going on during the Quest, wasn’t there? How much did you two win? As long as Dwalin didn’t win, that smug bastard...

Right, yes, how I’m here. You know the why of it. I was miserable in Erebor. Although I fulfilled my duties admirably the recovery of our people felt hollow with my Heart halfway across the world. And so I left it all to you both without warning or explanation and disappeared. I’m sure your mother will be furious with me when she learns the whole story, and there’s another letter enclosed here for her. I’d run away after delivering it if I were you two.

I’m afraid how I came to be here in the Shire is rather boring. Months of hiking and camping alone in the wilderness, a few stray orcs and goblins, little food and little water, weariness in my mind and soul, and a slim hope that my One would not turn me away at the door.

_(Honestly! As if I would turn away any weary traveller, let alone a dearly missed friend. Although I suppose I didn’t make a stellar impression of my skills as a host the night we all met….oh, right, yes! Hello boys! This is Uncle Bilbo, if you haven’t figured that out by now.)_

Yes, it’s “Uncle” Bilbo. I can imagine the shocked looks on your faces, but I’m getting to that. How will you spread absolutely ridiculous rumors about us throughout the Mountain without knowing the full story? I’ve had plenty of practice telling it to Bilbo’s many (oh so many!) family members.

I travelled for months, following the pull on my heart that led me ever-westward, feeling the strain on my mind ease with each step closer to my Beloved. Until very early one morning I arrived back at the round green door where everything began. (Bilbo calls me dramatic, but that part never fails to win over his reluctant relatives.)

I’ve since been scolded, repeatedly, that dawn is not a proper receiving hour for guests and that Hobbits aren’t the most alert before first breakfast. I had fully expected that Bilbo would yell at me or punch me or just slam the door in my face after turning up with no warning, after three years of not writing. Imagine my surprise when my dear Bilbo simply rubbed his eyes, said, “Oh, hello Thorin,” pulled me inside, and went to bed.

 _(Alone! Went to bed_ alone _. For Eru’s sake, he makes it seem like I dragged him off to bed the moment he showed up. I am much too proper for that, adventure notwithstanding. No, I waited to drag him off to bed until after tea time, like a respectable Hobbit!)_

And...you probably didn’t need to know that. But yes, he went off to bed _alone_ and I was left standing in the entryway of Bag End. With my love gone back to sleep and me not knowing what else to do, I cleaned myself up a bit and made breakfast for us both. I have been told by Bilbo’s Aunt Donnamira that, by Hobbit custom, I was very presumptuous in doing so. Making food for another is a sign of love and cooking in someone else’s home is a signal that you wish it to be your home, too. 

Both were absolutely true, of course, but knowing what the gesture means would have saved me much confusion in the following weeks. 

When Bilbo woke up and saw first, that I was not a dream or figment of his imagination and second, that I had _cooked_ breakfast for us _in his kitchen_...well. He stared at me silently while I stood in his dining room, inspected the food on the table, walked over, _kissed me_ , and then sat down to eat. I was also told that means he accepted the proposal but not knowing what else to do at that point I simply started eating, too. Really though, I’m sure I mostly just sat there with a confused and besotted look on my face.

_(Well that part is most certainly true. And can you blame my family for finding the story terribly romantic? In their eyes, he gave up his home and his people, travelled halfway around the world, and proposed marriage in the most romantic and Hobbitish way possible. Honestly, it still makes me blush to think about it even now that I know he didn’t know what he was doing at the time.)_

After our meal we _did_ get to actually talk. I explained that I had abdicated and why and that I desired to stay for however long he would have me, if he had even forgiven me enough to let me stay at all (though after the kiss, I was reasonably confident that he had). He assured me that I was forgiven, assured me that I was an idiot for travelling across the Misty Mountains alone (fair point…), and that he desired me to never leave. I’m summarizing here. There was actually quite a bit more yelling involved, as you can imagine, but that’s not important. We talked all day, had tea, had...other things...after tea, and thus began my life in the Shire.

Truth be told, I don’t remember a time when I’ve been as happy as I am right now. Sure, things haven’t been completely smooth. There was some initial resistance to my presence here, Hobbits being as reclusive as they are. But the support of a few well-respected people went a long way and it certainly doesn’t hurt that Bilbo is related to half the folks here, including most of the leaders.

 _(Oh really, it’s not_ most _of the leaders. It’s just the Thain of the Shire. And the Master of Buckland, but that’s only by marriage. And the Mayor of Michel Delving is just an old friend...I’m going to stop now, I’m just making it worse. But he’s right, I_ am _related to a great deal of people, mostly because my mother was one of twelve siblings. That sort of thing is hard to avoid in the Shire. Your extended family has just grown by quite a bit, my boys!)_

But yes, I am happy. _We_ are happy and were wed in the custom of the Shire a fortnight ago. I am now officially a resident of the Shire and of Bag End. I am a husband and a blacksmith and a rather terrible gardener, but all of it is mine and I am happier than I’ve ever been, here in my home that’s full of everything I never knew to want. Bilbo and I love and miss you both fiercely, and are so incredibly proud of the dwarrow you’ve grown into. Please come visit us as soon as your duties permit, and your mother too, so that Bilbo can meet her. Tea is at four. In the meanwhile, do write us both to let us know how you fair.

_(Yes, Fíli, Kíli, you must write and tell me how you are doing. I want to know that my darling nephews, the rascals, haven’t been buried under responsibilities and politics and crowns. And it had better not be another three years before I see your faces again!)_

I hope we will speak again soon. Do let me know who won the wager.

All our love,

Uncle Thorin, Husband Under the Hill

_and Uncle Bilbo_

**Author's Note:**

> Titles are hard, sorry about that. All typos are mine :) Comments are love, and thanks for reading!
> 
> Edit: fixed the formatting. Italics are a pain the behind. I do not recommend.


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